


What Lies Beneath

by KiwiChick42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Law Student Sam, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Mother Hen Dean, Oblivious Dean, i'll add characters too, i'll add tags as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 22:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10672014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiChick42/pseuds/KiwiChick42
Summary: Dean and Sam had just started their new lives, and settling into California came with it's own set of new experiences.While Dean started to question what it meant when he was propositioned in a grocery store, without him even realizing, something lurked at the edges of his peripheral, namely, under his bed.





	What Lies Beneath

**Author's Note:**

> So, this just came to me, and i'm still deciding on how it's gonna go, but i have a fair idea. Updates should be at least once a week, maybe a bit longer, depending on how much sleep i get hahahaa. (I have a six month old, so yeah.) 
> 
> Any questions are welcome, and ill try and answer them without spoiling the story lol. I will update the tags as i go, because i hate spoilers as much as the next person. If you've read any of my other stories (thank you for that) you'll know that this isn't going to be just a porn fest! there will be plot!! 
> 
> Anyway, on wards and upwards, enjoy!

**_ Chapter One – Moving in, Moving On. _ **

 

“Dude, I thought those giant legs of yours would’ve moved faster than that.” Dean huffed at his younger brother, who was blocking the door to their new apartment. It wouldn’t have normally been a problem, except the damn heavy box he barely had a grip on was quickly becoming uncomfortable to hold. Sam had hurried before him, carrying a box of their kitchen supplies, but clearly became distracted on the way to his destination.

 “Chill, Dean.” Sam, the giant puppy that he was, just grinned. The excitement of moving, and finally starting at Stanford, tempered all of his moods lately. Really, nothing could get the kid down. It was sort of great to see Sam so happy; it really took a weight off Dean’s broad shoulders. Big, hazel eyes crinkled in a smile. “The door seems to have a bit of a swing to it, didn’t want it to catch you.” Dean threw a grateful smile at his thoughtful little brother. He really was going to be a kickass lawyer, always thinking of others.

They staggered into the apartment, gratefully unloading their heavy cargoes. Dean, apparently, a little too enthusiastically.

“Dean! Be careful.” Sam rushed over to the box Dean had just unceremoniously dumped by the small, already cluttered desk. Sam’s unhappy grimace drew a chuckle from Dean, who kicked the box just to piss his brother off. Sam pushed him away and started to unpack, stacking the huge books on the desk in whatever order Sam thought he needed them. “They were expensive, so knock it off.”

Dean rolled his eyes and then his shoulders, before heading back out the door to grab the rest of their stuff. “Uh, yeah, I’m aware. I’m the one who paid for them, remember?” Dean didn’t bother to wait for Sam’s response, mainly because he didn’t want a ten minute lecture about _Dean always looking after him._ It was his job, and he didn’t mind it one bit. No one would dare say it to his face, but he knew he was just a little bit of a mother hen.

Just a little.

He grabbed the last load from the Impala, and made sure she was safe and secure in her assigned packing space, locked and happy. Dean patted her lovingly; she’d done a great job getting them safely all the way from Lawrence, Kansas, to Stanford. Yeah, Sam would say he had an unhealthy attachment to his car, but everyone needed something, didn’t they? If that was as weird as Dean got, he’d take it.

It took them the rest of the afternoon, and well into the evening, before the apartment had any semblance of homely structure to it. Sam had class in the morning, so he needed an early night, and yeah, Dean was totally a mother hen, but Sam had a chance, an actual honest to god _chance,_ to make something of himself, and Dean was going to do everything in his power to make sure Sam succeeded. So they ordered pizza and Dean made a list of what to get the next day from the store.

“Anything you need tomorrow?” Dean tapped the pen against the small bit of paper holding their weekly shop. It felt weirdly domestic, just the two of them, after living with Bobby and Ellen for so long. It was… _quiet,_ too.

“Not really, but remember to get plenty of fruit and vegetables.” Sam’s eyebrows rose, and he smirked. “Just because Ellen’s not here, doesn’t mean you can start eating like a caveman.” Dean blinked at Sam, before snorting softly, adding fruit and veges to the list.

Sam stood, long arms stretching languidly above his head. Dean suppressed a chuckle, randomly reminded of a spider monkey he’d seen in a zoo. “I’m gonna have a shower, then head to bed.” Sam turned to walk the short distance to the bathroom, before he stopped. He turned, large hand rubbing the back of his neck in a patented Winchester gesture of awkwardness and _there be feelings ahead._ “Um, I just – thanks, Dean.” Sam was blushing, and Dean wasn’t much better. Feelings were not something the Winchesters were very good at. “I mean it; I don’t think I could’ve done all this without you.” Dean ducked his head, and scribbled distractedly on the shopping list.

“Don’t mention it. Just do me a favour.” Sam hummed his acknowledgment, and Dean grinned up at him from his place on the couch. “Don’t lose any of those damn books! It was them, or the down payment on a house!” Dean could almost feel the eye roll, all the way across the room.

“Way to ruin a perfectly good moment!”

“We aint in no chick flick, bitch.”

“Bite my ass, jerk.”

 

* * *

 

Dean turned the light on in his room, and took in the sight of barely controlled chaos before him. A double bed, random chair, bedside table and built in closet were what consisted of his room, not counting the boxes everywhere. He’d deal with everything in the morning. All he wanted to do was strip off, and crash into his hastily made bed. Sighing, he fumbled with his belt, sliding it softly from the loops. His jeans slipped off easily, and he thought about sleeping in the buff, but there was still a chill in the air, so he decided against it.

He’d need to get a lamp or something, because tripping over a box after he turned off the light was a real possibility. He was halfway to bed, arms stretched out in front of him like some drunken loon, when he shivered. A wave of goose bumps rushed over his skin, and he had the distinct feeling he was being watched. Frozen half way to his bed, he was tempted to rush back and turn the light back on, when the feeling abruptly disappeared. Dean shook his head, and laughed quietly to himself.

Imagine that, Dean Winchester, afraid of the dark.

Shaking his head, he assured himself that there were no such thing as monsters and climbed into bed, his tired, over hyped body relaxing as soon as it hit the mattress.

_Ahh, memory foam. It remembered._

He lay there for a few minutes, thinking about how he was going to go about finding a job in the morning. Probably just wander around all the local auto shops, pass his credentials in, and hope for the best.

The insurance money from their parent’s deaths was all but gone, after paying for Sam’s tuition, and the apartment. He wasn’t too worried, but it was nice to have a buffer. Thoughts skittered in and out of his sleepy consciousness as his brain slowly succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t help notice that primal, instinctive edge, hovering just beyond where he could reach. His body was reacting to something he knew wasn’t there, but he just chalked it up to a new place, unfamiliar and basely, unsafe.

As sleep finally consumed him, he distantly registered the low hum coming from somewhere under his bed, and he hoped the down stairs neighbours didn’t turn out to be loud dickheads.

 

* * *

 

 Blearily blinking awake at ass o’clock in the morning was not Deans idea of a good time, but he’d just heard the front door slam shut and it had, for some reason Dean was unwilling to think too much about so early, tipped one of his boxes over. Groaning at the crash and the work that would follow to pick it all up again, Dean just rolled over and tried to get back to the awesome dream he had been having before his rude awakening.

He had been lying on a bed of wild flowers, in some kind of magical forest, warm and goddamn happy. He didn’t question the weird shit his mind threw at him, just accepted the feeling of calm and safety permeating the air. It was his mind, no one could judge him there, or make fun of him for the things he thought of. It was one of the few private places a man had, and he would be damned if he felt any kind of shame in his little happy place.

Unfortunately, holding the dream in place was like trying to catch water with a sieve. Bits and pieces slipped through his mental fingers, leaving him, at last, with the faint picture of strange, glowing blue eyes and the whisper of an almost ghostly touch.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Dean opened his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable blanket of cold that was likely to wrap around him when he slithered out of his cocoon of warmth.

Dean dressed quickly, not lingering in the cold that hovered like a cloud in his room. He wished he could just stay in his dream, safe and warm and not so damn hungry. He hurried to the kitchen, coffee already on his mind, when he realised they didn’t have a scrap of food or, really, anything ingestible, in the house. Groaning long and loud, he grabbed his phone and wallet off the counter, shrugged his jacket on and was out the door in a matter of minutes.

Lucky for him, the store was only a few blocks down their street. It had been one of the reasons him and Sam had chosen the apartment, along with its close proximity with Stanford, and its price. Weirdly, it had been super cheap, and they had been the only people looking at it. The landlord had looked almost overjoyed when they had said they would take it, but they just shrugged it off. It had still been early enough that a lot of students hadn’t started looking, so it wasn’t that weird. The guy obviously just didn’t want it sitting empty when he could be getting rent from it.

Oh well, their win.

The store was busy by the time Dean meandered through the automatic doors, so he grabbed a cart and tried his best to avoid running anyone down. It wasn’t like he was aiming for people, but they had a habit of getting in the way sometimes.

Going through the list, hoping he picked up enough rabbit food for Sam, he found all he needed was some frozen pastry and a packet of mixed vegetables. Whistling some random tune softly to himself, he stood contemplating whether he could get away with buying the slightly more expensive, but also better tasting, pastry. The cheap stuff tended to taste like sugar covered cardboard. He scooped up a packet of the best, ignoring that niggle about tight finances.

Only the best for Deans pies.

Turning his attention to the frozen vegetables, he couldn’t help but notice the man standing next to him. Mainly because said dude was giving him what looked suspiciously like a good once over. Dean hoped he wasn’t about to get smacked, he didn’t even know what he’d done. The guy saw him looking, and thankfully, smiled warmly.

“I can’t tell you aint from around here, sugar.” Dean almost shivered at the deep baritone, for whatever reason, but was pleasantly surprised by the musical, southern accent. Good to find a kindred spirit in such a foreign place. Light blue eyes met his as he smiled back.

“Uh, yeah, just moved from Kansas.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He didn’t have many friends, and those he had, were a long, long way away. Talking to people wasn’t one of his strong suits, so shoot him. “How’d you tell?” He leaned his hip against the low freezer, and tried to ignore the slight cold permeating his jeans.

The guy, with his small, well-trimmed beard and broad shoulders, not that Dean noticed, or anything, grinned. “Well, ya walk different than all these city folk.” Dean laughed, self-consciously shifting his bow legs.

“Alright, ill give ya that.” Dean’s accent turned thick and deep when met with a familiar tone. The conversation stalled, but Dean was unwilling to let it go, because he was in a new place and he needed friends, goddamnit. He held out his hand, and swallowed. Blue eyes followed the action, but Dean just kept his steady. “I’m Dean, by the way.” The other man chuckled, low voice doing _something_ to Deans insides that he wasn’t about to think about in the frozen food isle.

“Benny, _very_ pleased to meet ya.” Benny took his hand in his huge one, and that was saying something considering Dean was a good six foot three. Dean, damn his traitor of a body, blushed under the weight of a warm, strong hand holding his for way too long to be socially acceptable. He bit his lip, and eased his hand away, strangely unhappy at the lack of contact.

“Cool, cool.” Dean was a smooth talker, alright. Just when he was about to excuse himself, to dig a hole to dive into at his lack of social skills, Benny cleared his throat and held out his hand again.

“Here,” Dean just stared dumbly at the torn slip of paper held out by the other man. When he didn’t take it, Benny chuckled again and moved forward, deftly tucking it safely in the top pocket of his jacket. He patted it, as if to make sure it wouldn’t attempt a daring escape, and gave Dean a wink. “Give me a call; we’ll go out for a drink sometime.”

Dean swallowed, throat sticking, suddenly dry as the freezers behind him, but nowhere near as cold, no sir. “Uh, yeah, sounds – sounds great.” He didn’t know people in California could be so friendly, he had always heard they were mainly dick head yuppies. Guess he found the only friendly guy in the state. He didn’t know why it made him feel like a blushing virgin, though.

He waved goodbye to his new friend, and went back to grabbing his veges when he heard Benny call out from behind him. “Don’t keep me waiting, sugar.” Dean was sure his face would melt the ice from the freezers. People in Cali were clearly far more outgoing and forward than those from back home.

After getting through the checkout, and fumbling through the checkout girls blatant flirting, Dean made his way outside into the dazzling sunlight. Despite it being cold at night, and in the morning, the day had turned out to be brilliant. One perk of living on the sunshine coast, he guessed.

He shuffled the bags around to dig his phone out of his jacket, and came across the number scribbled across the torn shopping list. Dean smiled happily, and made a mental note to give Benny a call when his life was more sorted, probably by the weekend.

Hopefully.

Bringing Sam up in his contacts, Dean hit dial, hoping Sam wasn’t in a class or otherwise occupied. Luckily, Sam answered quickly.

“Hey, everything alright?” Sam sounded hushed, which made Dean think maybe he had called at the wrong time.

“Yeah, I’m not like, interrupting a class or anything, am I?” Dean didn’t want Sam to get into trouble because of him, especially on his first day. He just wanted to make sure Sam was doing ok. Sam sighed, but it was a happy sound, a sound of contentment.

“Nah, I’m just in the library. Don’t have class for another twenty minutes.” Ah, so that was why he was whispering. Dean nodded; realised Sam of course couldn’t see him and shook his head.

“Cool, well, I just wanted to make sure everything was going ok,” Dean kicked at the paper bags at his feet, glad there were only two of them or the trip home would have been uncomfortable and awkward. “I went to the store, got a few things.”

“Awesome, hope you got what I asked for, there’s only so much of your kinda food I can stomach.” Sam laughed at Deans indignant noise, because no, not cool. “Aw man, you know I’m joking.”

“Whatever, you can cook next time, then.” Dean beamed when he heard Sam laugh; no one could say he wasn’t a good brother. Dean heard Sam ruffling some papers, and suddenly remembered his strange encounter. “Oh, hey, people here are so friendly, I’d always heard they were like, massive dicks.” Sam made a questioning noise at the other end of the phone.

“Uh, what do you mean, Dean?” Sam sounded strangely cautious, like Dean had maybe done something wrong. He was pretty sure he hadn’t.

“Well, I was in the store, and me and this guy got to talking, and well, he gave me his number, said we should go out for a drink sometime. I think I already made a new friend.” Wow, he sounded like a little kid on his first day of school. Oh well, Dean wanted to be a well-rounded member of society, and that meant social interaction, right? Right. Whatever Dean was expecting from Sam, barely contained, quiet laughter was not it. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Ok ok, so you’re telling me, some _guy_ gave you his _number,_ and you don’t know what just happened?” Sam was gasping, and yeah, Dean could be slow on the up take at times, but –

“Aw _hell._ ” Dean felt the heat crawling up his neck as he _finally_ realised what had happened. Benny had been _flirting_ with him. He’d – he’d essentially been asked out on a date! “Sam stop laughing, it’s not funny!” Sam had clearly left the library, because he was howling with laughter down the line, and Dean had a good mind to just hang up. But his mama had raised him right, and he wouldn’t be so rude.

After a while, Sam calmed down enough to form coherent sentences. “I mean, I know you’re a bit oblivious sometimes, but really?” Dean just huffed, but he was kind of flattered by Benny’s attention, once he knew what it was really about. Dean didn’t swing that way, at least, he didn’t think he did. To be honest, he hadn’t really given it much thought, but he wasn’t some homophobic asshole.

“I thought he was just being friendly.” It was a fairly innocent assumption; things like that didn’t happen all too often in Kansas, certainly not in Lawrence. Really, how was he supposed to know it’d be something… _more?_

“Sorry, Dean. Maybe – maybe he does just wana be your friend?” Sam sounded hopeful, all youthful opportunism. Dean sighed, and went to end the conversation.

“Yeah, maybe. All I can say is we’re not in Kansas anymore, Sammy boy.” 


End file.
